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       Corralled, p.26

         Part #1 of Blacktop Cowboys series by Lorelei James
 

  understand about your father. That is pretty horrible. So I am a little surprised you’ve chosen to work in the world of rodeo as a career.”

  She felt tears surface and quickly swallowed them down. “Will you continue on the circuit when you have kids? Leave them with their mommy on the ranch as you drive off to fight bulls?”

  His body went rigid. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. And bein’s I ain’t got a wife yet, it’s a moot point.” A couple of seconds passed and he playfully slapped her ass. “Unless you wanna marry me and we can hash out the details right now so we’re on the same page before we walk down the aisle together.”

  Lainie smiled, appreciating his attempt to lighten the conversation. “I’ll take it under consideration.” She hopped off his lap.

  She fiddled with the coffeepot, unnerved by how easy it’d been, spilling her deepest, darkest secret to him. What did it mean that she trusted him with something she’d never told another living soul?

  “Oh, before I forget, I grabbed these from the grocery store across the way this mornin’.” Hank set a pile of paperback word searches and word puzzles on the counter.

  Holy crap. She did not know what to say.

  When it took her a bit to answer, he shuffled his feet. “Look, it’s okay if you ain’t interested. You mentioned you used to do them with your grandma—”

  Lainie turned and hugged him, pressing her mouth to his, not allowing him to explain away his sweet, thoughtful gesture. Allowing herself a moment to get her emotions under control.

  “Thank you. I love them.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  That was when Lainie knew everything was about to change.

  Chapter XVIII

  The next week on the road was a grueling test of endurance.

  After Miles City, they stopped in Glendive, Montana. Then Sidney, Montana. After that, Williston, North Dakota. Then back into Montana, hitting the Wolf Point, Brockton, Glasgow, and Sand Springs rodeos.

  Lainie started to believe it should be called Cowboy Hell instead of Cowboy Christmas.

  Several rodeos held an afternoon performance as the first go-round; the final go- round was the evening performance. If Kyle placed in the top ten, he had to return for the second performance for a chance at winning the event. Every night after the bull riding ended, they were back in the truck, on the road, racing off to the next event on the list.

  So far it’d paid off. Kyle finished in the money at every stop except Miles City. Ironically, that’d also been the last time they’d indulged in the no- holds- barred type of threesome. Heck, some nights they weren’t having sex at all. Hank and Kyle were too damn tired. Or she was bleary- eyed and exhausted from taking over the driving duties.

  Part of her wondered if Kyle was superstitious. He hadn’t covered a single bull after indulging in the double- rider special. Since that night, they’d gone back to the fuck- and- suck variety of threesomes, and Kyle’s winning streak was back on track.

  Lainie wasn’t bothered by the decrease in steamy sexual interludes between the three of them, as much as it bothered her that Kyle spent his limited free time with other CRA competitors— not with her and Hank. She was happy he’d forged connections; after all, Kyle had jumped into a new circuit midyear, and being the new guy sucked. She also understood Kyle’s desire to get the hell out of the camper.

  Hank suffered from cabin fever and road weariness too. To combat it, he’d secured an entire day and one night at an actual cabin in the woods outside of Great Falls, Montana. Lainie had looked forward to it for days.

  Rather than show gratitude about the small break in the taxing schedule, Kyle had turned surly. He hadn’t gone on the road to sit in a damn cabin. His only goal was to ride bulls, win money, and hit as many rodeos as possible. It hadn’t helped matters that Hank had reminded Kyle that he owned the rig they were driving. He made the final decision on their destination. Far as Hank was concerned, they were taking one day off. Period. If Kyle didn’t like it, he was free to make alternative arrangements.

  So Kyle did just that. He’d hang out with them during the day, but in the evening he’d be competing at a tiny rodeo an hour away.

  An event that didn’t have official points or a decent purse, but one that allowed Kyle to stick with his goal to ride at least one bull every day.

  Everyone was happy with the compromise.

  So it made no sense that Lainie was cranky. She was in a beautiful secluded cabin, with all the amenities— a real shower, a puffy feather bed, a well- stocked kitchen.

  Lainie didn’t like being cranky, especially when she couldn’t pinpoint the source of it.

  “Why the sour face, sugar?” Kyle drawled.

  Thwack, thwack, thwack. She slid the red peppers off the cutting board and reached for a cucumber.

  “Lainie?”

  Thwack echoed again as the knife sliced through the thick green skin.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looked up at him. “Oh, are you talking to me?”

  “Who else would I be talking to?”

  “The man in the moon,” she muttered.

  Kyle frowned. “Did you say you’re in a bad mood?”

  “Did you say you had stuff to do elsewhere?” she retorted sweetly.

  “Jesus. What’s bugging you today?”

  I don’t have a freakin’ clue. “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you whacking the shit out of that cucumber?”

  Lainie glanced down. Damn. She’d pulverized it. “It’s supposed to be finely chopped. Can’t you go annoy Hank for a while and let me cook?”

  His eyebrow lifted. “Annoying you, am I?”

  “Yep. Now scram.”

  His eyes took on a hint of challenge. “I ain’t much liking your tone.”

  “Too bad. I put up with your surliness all day yesterday and the day before, so you can suck it up.”

  Silence. Not particularly pleasant silence.

  “Oh, I think you’ll be the one sucking it up. Put down the damn knife.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “I don’t care. I said now.”

  “Fine.” She let the knife clatter on the cutting board. “What do you want?”

  “Same thing you do.” Kyle ambled around the center island.

  Grabbing her wrist, he towed her right out the front door, down the steps to the grassy area between the barn and the house.

  Hank exited the barn and jogged over to them. He gave them a puzzled look. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “I think Miz Lainie is missing us. But instead of coming right out and asking us to fuck her, she’s stomping around.”

  “You know, I do believe you’re right, Kyle. She has been a mite sassy today.”

  “Think if we filled that mouth of hers with cock she’d still be sassy?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  Lainie rolled her eyes. “Funny, guys.”

  “Do you see us laughing? Strip down.”

  “I’ll pass on a little slap and tickle. In the past couple of days, with you guys being so tired, I’ve taken care of my own needs, thank you very much.”

  “Don’t need us, do you?” Hank shot back.

  “Nope.” She flashed her teeth. “I just need more double- A batteries.”

  Silence.

  “That buzzing noise I heard when you were in the bathroom was you getting yourself off?” Kyle said. “Damn. I thought you were brushing your teeth.”

  Lainie laughed, tossed her head, and started to walk off.

  “Stop right there.”

  She didn’t.

  “Lainie,” Hank said sharply, “that wasn’t a request.”

  She slowly turned around. Both her men gazed at her invitngly, hotly even, but their mouths and postures were set with determination. A tiny shiver of desire surfaced, that she could elicit those types of looks. “You’re serious.”

  “Completely.”
>
  She gestured to the great outdoors. “I’m supposed to get nekkid out here?”

  “Yep.”

  “You guys plan on standing around in your birthday suits too?”

  Hank and Kyle exchanged a look. “Not your concern. Your concern is getting them clothes off. Now.”

  “Ha! Convince me that stripping down for you guys would be a better way to spend my time than chin- deep in a bathtub.”

  Now she’d done it, questioning their sexual prowess. Hank and Kyle would be hell- bent on proving their mastery of her body. How easily they could wring a screaming orgasm or twenty out of her.

  Lainie couldn’t freakin’ wait.

  “Darlin’, that was the wrong thing to say. You’ll take whatever we decide to dish out. Now strip,” Kyle said.

  His adamant tone sent her scrambling to get undressed— even when part of her wanted to protest his bossy behavior.

  T-shirt gone, bra tossed to the ground, she kicked her flip-flops aside and shimmied her jeans and underwear off. She stood in the front yard naked as the day she was born.

  Lust and something darker . . . like male power, settled on Hank’s and Kyle’s faces. Her gaze fell to the bulging crotches of their jeans.

  “Fair warning: Since you pushed us, we’re gonna push you back.”

  “Our demands will be rough on you.”

  Not might be rough, will be rough. Another shiver worked through her. She wasn’t afraid. Just curious. What would these sexually adventurous men, who hadn’t exactly gone easy on her, do to kick the kink up a notch or ten?

  “Touch yourself,” Kyle commanded gruffly. “Put those fingers in your pretty snatch and get yourself off for us.”

  Shoving aside the fact that she’d never masturbated in front of another person, let alone two men, Lainie closed her eyes. She placed her right index finger and middle finger on her mound, rubbing the slit. Gradually she scissored her fingers closed, trapping her pussy lips and her clit together, adding a few light strokes to coax that nubbin from its hiding place.

  Crazy how fast she heated up, how wet and pliant her pussy had become. Feeling Hank’s and Kyle’s burning gazes, she pushed her middle finger down the seam of her sex and thrust it inside her cunt. Moaning, she added another finger and fucked herself, trying to get deeper with every plunge.

  Neither Hank nor Kyle said a word, but she could hear their stuttered breathing. She could almost feel their pulses pounding in time with hers.

  Masturbating was never as good as real sex, but it was always a faster path to orgasm. Lainie knew this wasn’t about her getting off as much as about their forcing her to pleasure herself for their pleasure. Still, it’d take just a few concentrated strokes on her clitoris and she’d come. Using her middle finger, she rubbed quickly on her clit until the pulses gathered and expanded into one rhythmic explosion. She threw her head back and gasped.

  Her eyes fluttered open when the sound of footsteps came closer.

  Kyle and Hank were unhooking their belts. Unzipping their jeans. Tugging denim and boxer briefs down their flanks.

  Blowing them both at once? That would be something new.

  Hank said, “We watched you. Now you’re gonna watch us.”

  Oh, wow. Not what she’d expected.

  “On your knees.” Kyle pointed to her jeans. “Use them for a cushion.”

  “Hands at your sides,” Hank instructed after she’d dropped into position.

  Her eyes moved back and forth between her men. Holy buckets, that was hot as sin, watching them jack off. Hank’s rhythm stayed steady. Kyle’s started out fast, then slowed. The rougher yanking and twisting on their cocks fascinated her. Lainie hadn’t exactly been tentative, but she’d never been that aggressive.

  Hands moved faster. The slap, slap, slap, of rough fists on male flesh, coupled with the harsh breathing, brought a fresh wave of lust over her, especially when Hank grunted and stepped closer.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw Kyle move behind her. He swore and the sounds of him beating off increased. She peeked over her shoulder when he groaned and bit out, “Yes. Fuck. Yes.”

  Warm liquid landed on her butt cheeks as Kyle ejaculated on her ass. Her cunt spasmed and she clenched her thighs together.

  “Fuck, yeah,” Hank rasped. Lainie turned to look at him as the first explosion hit her breasts. Hank’s fist pumped as he aimed the spurts at her nipples. After the last splatter, he curled one hand around the back of her neck. “Lick me clean, darlin’,” and brushed his wet- tipped cock head across her lips until she opened her mouth.

  Hank pushed his cock inside halfway. His shaft had softened a little but not much. She swirled her tongue around the rim, suckling softly, humming her appreciation of his familiar salty tang.

  He pressed his thumb against her jawbone. “Open wider. Take it all.” He growled when she let him slide across her tongue until the crown touched her throat. “You are so fuckin’ sexy, Lainie, with my come dripping off your tits as you’re deep-throating my dick.”

  His raunchy descriptions tightened her nipples, her skin, her pussy. She swallowed a couple of times against the saliva building in her mouth and Hank pulled out. “Keep your hands by your sides.”

  Kyle stepped into view. “Use that sassy mouth on me too, sugar,” and slipped his cock past her lips. He cupped his hands over her ears, tilting the angle of her head, fucking in and out as he pleased. “I like seeing my seed running down the crack of your ass. Makes me hard. Makes me realize I ain’t nearly done with you.”

  He shoved deep and stayed there. “How about you, Hank?”

  “Oh, not by half. Keep her occupied. I’ll get the supplies we’ll need.”

  Lainie wanted to ask, What supplies? But she couldn’t speak with Kyle’s cock buried in her mouth. His shaft was rock hard, as if he hadn’t just come. All over her ass.

  He kept a lazy tempo, murmuring, “Get me wet,” and “Use your teeth,” and “Suck harder.”

  Surrendering her will to Kyle made her wetter and hotter than she’d ever imagined. She focused on pleasing him, getting him to that intangible point where he lost control. Where she held all the power as she brought him over the edge.

  Two, three, four thrusts and he stopped halfway so the tip rested in the center of her tongue. “Swallow. Yeah. Suck like that.”

  His taste flooded her mouth and she swallowed the slick mixture until she’d milked him dry with hungry, rhythmic sucks.

  A moment later Kyle tilted her chin to look into her eyes. He swept her hair from her temples with the tenderest touch. “You are beautiful.” Then he helped her to her feet.

  Her body was a sticky mess, fingers, chest, chin, ass, between her legs. But Lainie forgot everything when Hank ambled into view carrying a sawhorse. And a saddle. And, sweet Jesus, was that a . . . rope draped over his shoulder?

  Hank flashed his bad cowboy grin and her stomach cartwheeled.

  “Kyle, grab some rubbers and lube from the camper.” His gaze wandered over the dried come on her chest and he smiled cockily.

  He dumped the saddle on the ground as he set the sawhorse down. “Am I makin’ you nervous?”

  “Not you so much as your unusual . . . supplies.”

  That damnably alluring grin appeared again. “Ah, hell, darlin’. It ain’t nothin’. We’re just gonna have ourselves a private rodeo.”

  “Let me guess. Instead of bulls and broncs, you’re gonna be ridin’ me.”

  “Such a smart cookie you are. Got it on the first try.” Hank crooked his finger at her.

  Lainie automatically walked to him.

  He rested his backside on the sawhorse and tugged her between his legs. His dark, hungry gaze might’ve scared her if she weren’t one hundred percent certain Hank would never hurt her.

  Not by accident, certainly not on purpose, and not ever in a moment of passion.

  “Turn around and close your eyes.”

  She obeyed and f
aced the pasture, letting her lids flutter closed.

  Hank’s wonderfully calloused hands slowly floated over her limbs,
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